


Standards of Professional Self-Restraint

by Nevanna



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Intimidation, Power Dynamics, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevanna/pseuds/Nevanna
Summary: While on an errand in the Institute library, Melanie runs into trouble, and thinks about causing some trouble of her own.
Relationships: Melanie King & Jonathan Sims
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114
Collections: The_Magnusquerade





	Standards of Professional Self-Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> There may be a time when I get tired of Melanie dealing with Vampire Elias, but that time has not yet come. NevillesGran's fic about their dynamic is the gift that keeps on giving.
> 
> (Thanks also to Turbulent Muse for her encouragement.)

By midday, when Melanie still hadn’t stopped yawning, Jon walked up to her desk, unbuttoned one cuff, and held out his wrist. “If you need it,” he said softly.

“Not right now.” Part of her _always_ needed it, but she was learning to hold back the temptation. She wished sometimes that it was more unpleasant, the way her mind melted together with his when they shared blood. She wished that it didn’t feel so _peaceful_. “Just had trouble sleeping last night, y’know?” She’d still been coughing and gasping when she opened her eyes, and had startled the Admiral off the bed again. At least she hadn’t woken Georgie.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine ’til the end of the day, unless you need me to chase down something scaly with too many arms.” She paused. “Do you?”

“Just a book,” Jon assured her. “Would that I could tell you that you won’t have to literally _chase_ it, but I try not to make assumptions about the items that we collect.”

“God, are you trying to make a joke?” Melanie grabbed her pen and pretended to write something down. “Vampire… transformation… doesn’t… grant… sense… of humor.”

“Can you wait until _after_ you've found my book to make fun of me?” Jon held out a slip of paper bearing a title and classification number. 

“Can and will.” She smirked and plucked the paper from his fingers. “Don’t worry about that.”

-

Melanie had done her share of library research, to add some meat to certain episodes of _Ghost Hunt UK_, so the title was less difficult to find than she’d feared. She tucked it under her arm and turned around to retrace her steps...

...only to find herself face to face with Elias. “How nice to see that you’re keeping busy,” he purred.

Melanie glared at him, putting as much acid as possible into, “Can I _help_ you?” Didn’t he have anything better to do than creep about between the shelves?

“I usually meet with some of the library staff for _lunch_ at this time.” He smiled. “Weren’t you the one who made those adjustments to my timetable?”

“Jon is waiting for me downstairs.” Melanie should have resented hiding behind him like that (_wouldn’t her master protect her, as long as she was good?_), but Elias would occasionally back off if someone invoked his Archivist. 

“You seem to be adapting well enough to his authority.”

“At least I know _he_ won’t try to fuck around with my head.” She _didn’t_ know that, but tried not to get too close to the part of her that would _welcome_ it. 

“_Try_ to?” Elias echoed. “No, I don’t imagine he would, without your permission. However, certain levels of communion and influence are unavoidable, as you surely understand.” He leaned closer, and she went rigid from the effort not to claw at his eyes. “He can’t enter or shape your dreams, but he probably senses how bad they’ve been.”

In last night’s dream, for the first time, she’d had a knife, and the scent of blood had _almost_ been stronger than the smoke and the rot. Melanie saw his smile widen, and thought, _Don’t let him get to you,_ except that hadn’t he already done just that? She’d crawled into his lap, desperate for the touch of his fangs; she’d sobbed like a lost child when he’d filled her head with vile truths; she’d taken the bait every time he provoked her into anger, and part of her wanted to do it again, here and now, with her nails and her teeth and the sharpest objects she could find. “Someday everyone in this place is going to find out what you are,” she gritted instead. “Isn’t that what gets you going? Making people know horrible things?”

“On occasion,” Elias said calmly. “I especially enjoy it when they _beg_ me to make the knowledge go away.”

Every word he spoke seemed to suggest a new way for her to hurt him, if she could, and she almost didn’t care how many other people would get hurt as well. Was this how Jon or Daisy felt when the bloodlust flared up?

“But I’m keeping you from your obligations to Jon,” Elias said suddenly, taking a step back. As soon as Melanie started walking, he added, “I’m sure that he’d relieve you of any unpleasant memories, if you asked nicely.” Was it her sharper hearing or one of his mind tricks that made it sound like his voice was right beside her ear? “He wouldn’t think any less of you if you couldn’t handle them. Like any decent manager, he wants his staff to be content and focused on their work.”

Melanie forced herself to keep walking. The library assistant smiled as he signed out her book, and she flicked her eyes away, wondering how many times Elias had already fed on him. She didn’t look back over her shoulder until she was halfway to the basement.

-

“Thank you,” Jon said as Melanie held out the book. “Now, I await your mockery. Shall we get it over with?” Their fingers brushed, and he frowned.

Melanie pulled her hand away. When Jon first _claimed_ her, she hadn’t been able to hide the memory of begging Elias to make her forget, to rearrange her mind the way he’d already rearranged everyone’s, without their knowing. Sooner or later, Jon would _see_ what had happened upstairs, what had been whispering inside her head. 

If she thought too long about what Elias had suggested, something within her would start urging her to _let Jon help, trust him; he’ll take care of what is his._

She couldn’t deny that there were worse temptations. Maybe the simmering, sometimes overwhelming rage was one of them, but either way, for now, it was _hers._ “Oh, I’m going to strike when you least expect it.”


End file.
